


Callie

by enigmaticagentscully



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: (again), F/M, Gen, I don't care of you're only dubiously canonical Callie I still like you, because fuck it there's no canonical explanation, in which I am also deliberately vague on how Callie died, in which I give myself feels about a very minor character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-12-23 03:10:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11980842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticagentscully/pseuds/enigmaticagentscully
Summary: The woman insinuated herself into Callie’s orbit, gestured unsubtly at Marcus across the room and asked “So what is he like?” in a low but carrying voice. As Callie started to repeat all the same pat phrases that she had told Abby, about how Marcus was a good man, dedicated to his work and protecting the people of the Ark, the woman interrupted her with a boozy giggle and leaned in further to say, in more hushed tones: “No, no, I mean...what is helike?” If there had been any mistaking her lascivious tone, she also waggled her eyebrows for effect, making it clear what she was asking.Abby remembers her best friend, and the complicated relationship they've both had over the years with Marcus Kane, and with each other.Written for Day 2 of 10DaysofAbbyGriffin: An Underrated Relationship. Technically a fic about Abby and Callie, but turned out kabby as fuck too because of course it did.





	Callie

* * *

 

** Today **

 

It’s unexpected, when it happens.

That’s what makes it worse, Abby thinks. They all carry so many memories of those lost around with them now – everyone in Arkadia has lost someone they loved, and most more than one – that being confronted with grief has become almost routine. She herself is an old hand at dealing with loss; not a day goes by when she doesn’t miss Jake, when she doesn’t think of Clarke out there in the wilderness somewhere alone. It’s a constant burden, as familiar as the ring that hangs around her neck.

She is unused to grief as a sudden, sharp thing, striking when least expected.

It begins with an argument she has with Marcus over the ongoing medical treatment for his leg. In spite of her best efforts, the wound gets reopened when he goes out of the camp on a mission she _told_ him he wasn’t ready for physically, and after a couple of days it’s looking suspiciously like it’s gotten infected.

Abby does her best not to panic at this. Thanks to Mount Weather, they are at least in possession of more medical supplies than they’ve had for a long time, even on the Ark. They have antibiotics. If he rests, he’ll be fine.

It does however, require at least one injection, which is something of a sticking point.

“It’s probably just a passing bug,” says Marcus firmly, whose temperature is so high that he’s visibly sweating even in the middle of winter.

Abby sighs. “No, it’s _probably_ septicaemia, Marcus,” she says patiently. “And when did you become a doctor, anyway?”

“I just don’t think we should be wasting medicine on something that’s—”

“Potentially deadly,” says Abby, picking up her hypodermic, glad that there’s no one else around in Medical to overhear this conversation. “It’s not a waste of medicine, Marcus, it’s a legitimate use of it.”

He frowns at her stubbornly. Under any other circumstances – and if she wasn’t so worried about him – it would almost be funny. The man still has a long scar across his arm where he slit his own wrist to make a point to the Grounders, and yet he’s looking at the tiny needle in her hand as if it’s the worst thing she’s ever threatened him with.

“Surely I could just...”

“ _No_. As your doctor and your Chancellor, this is not up for debate.” Abby softens at the look on his face, and puts a hand gently on his shoulder, in as reassuring a gesture as she can manage.

“Look, I know you’re afraid of needles, but—”

“How did you know that?” says Marcus, in the voice of one who has been carefully concealing that information and is not happy to discover that it might in fact be widely known.

“Callie told me,” says Abby automatically, only fully realising what she had said after the words were already out.

There was a silence.

“Ah,” says Marcus. “That...explains it.”

He’s not looking at her. Abby removes her hand from his shoulder. Callie’s name hangs in the air, poignant and horribly out of place. Neither of them have said it once, since being down here.

That’s the worst thing, thinks Abby. Not the awkwardness of their complicated shared past suddenly dragged back into the present. Not the grief, unfurling painfully from some deep hidden place inside her chest. But the realisation that, after everything that’s happened, they have hardly thought of Callie at all.

She gives Marcus the injection. His hand shakes, but he makes no further protest, and she can’t bring herself to offer him comfort, not now. It doesn’t feel right, somehow. The easy familiarity they have let themselves slip into these past few months has suddenly become something strange, a little shameful.

They don’t meet each other’s eyes for the rest of the appointment, and they avoid each other for the rest of the day. It feels odd, to be doing that again.

Abby tells herself that she didn’t forget. Not for a moment. Callie was her friend for most of her life on the Ark, and it would take more than a few months of her being gone to erase what she meant. But it’s true that she _has_ been pushing Callie out of her mind, intentionally or not, and she knows it’s as much due to how she feels about Marcus now as it is about her grief.

But she owes Callie more than that, so for the rest of the day, Abby remembers.

 

* * *

 

 

** Three Years Ago **

 

It was Unity Day and there was, as ever, a party.

Abby wasn’t having a good time. Jake was on shift in Engineering, so she was here with Callie, and that wasn’t as much fun as it should have been because of the news Callie had casually dropped that morning.

It was hard to look at her best friend the same way, now that she knew she was sleeping with Marcus Kane.

Abby had tried her best to hide her shock, but it was clear from Callie’s awkward manner that she hadn’t really succeeded. The two of them had been oddly stiff with each other all day, very carefully not mentioning the subject, and now that they were both in a room with the man in question the tension had only increased. Abby kept glancing at Marcus across the crowded space, trying to work out if there was anything different about him that she should have noticed, any sign that he had suddenly become a different person, a person that Callie would...

The worst part of the evening came when she overheard some woman talking to Callie about Marcus. Abby wasn’t sure who she was – someone from Farm Station, she thought – but her interest in Councillor Kane was anything but subtle. She had obviously been drinking, and even more obviously had some idea of Callie’s relationship with Marcus, which irked Abby given that she had only just found out herself.

The woman insinuated herself into Callie’s orbit, gestured unsubtly at Marcus across the room and asked “So what is he like?” in a low but carrying voice. As Callie started to repeat all the same pat phrases that she had told Abby, about how Marcus was a good man, dedicated to his work and protecting the people of the Ark, the woman interrupted her with a boozy giggle and leaned in further to say, in more hushed tones: “No, no, I mean...what is he _like?”_ If there had been any mistaking her lascivious tone, she also waggled her eyebrows for effect, making it clear what she was asking.

A faint pink colour appeared on Callie’s cheeks, and she muttered some excuse and left, leaving Abby feeling torn between embarrassment on her friend’s behalf and a strange sort of curiosity, tinged with something akin to disgust. Strange, since she usually wasn’t anything like a prude, but for the rest of the evening Abby found herself thinking of Marcus Kane’s hands all over Callie’s skin, Marcus Kane’s mouth on Callie’s mouth, Marcus Kane’s fingers in Callie’s hair, the two of them stripped of their clothes and all their careful reserve; these people so familiar to her made unrecognisable together. The evening had continued in an uncomfortable blur, and when Abby saw Marcus pass Callie a drink quite innocuously, she had to fight the wild, irrational urge to dash it out of his hand.

For the next few weeks, every time she was around Callie, Abby could feel all the questions she longed to ask her friend hovering at the back of her mind, never quite daring to make it to her lips.

_How did this happen? When did this happen? Is he good to you? Does he make you happy?_

If it were anyone else in a similar situation, she might have asked _‘Are you okay?’_ or _‘Do you need help?’_ Marcus Kane was Callie’s superior, after all, and a powerful man on the Ark. But Abby knew that Callie was more than capable of taking care of herself, and as for Marcus...well, she’d believe a lot of things of him, but not that. He could be arrogant and cold, but she had never once known him to be _cruel_ , and he made no secret of his loathing for the corruption that infested every part of Ark society. He was not the type to take advantage of anyone under his command.

Which left her with only one conclusion to draw: that Callie was with Marcus because she wanted to be, and Marcus was with Callie because he wanted to be. Two undeniable facts that Abby was somehow never able to quite make room for in her head.

Of course a part of her wanted to just come out and say it, especially after a long day in the Council Chamber, wanted to just seize Callie by the arms and yell “What do you _see_ in him?” She wouldn’t even have really meant it as an insult either, but...well, a genuine question. What _did_ Callie see in Marcus Kane that she didn’t? He was certainly good looking enough, but what was there that she could possibly find _attractive_ in the man?

Eventually she cracked. She was walking through the corridors with Callie when Marcus stopped them with some news about an emergency Council meeting. He spoke to Abby as though she were alone, barely glancing at Callie to acknowledge her presence as he filled in his fellow Council member rapidly on the necessary details, and then turned to her only as an apparent afterthought when he was about to leave.

“Weren’t you going to talk to Shumway about the arrangements for the new cadet training?” he said.

“I’m meeting with him tomorrow,” said Callie.

“Good. Keep me informed.”

And with that he strode off down the corridor. Abby glared after him, filled with righteous indignation on behalf of her friend, and no small amount of annoyance towards Callie herself for taking such rudeness in her stride.

“And they say romance is dead,” she muttered.

Callie gave her a look. “It’s...not like that,” she said.

Abby sighed. “What _is_ it like then?”

“What do you want...details?” said Callie, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “A rating from one to ten?”

“No!” In spite of herself Abby let out a breath of laughter. “God no, I just want to understand what this _is._ What the two of you are.” She hesitated. “Is it...just about sex then?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t _know?_ ”

Callie rolled her eyes. “Abby, I’m not _like_ you, I don’t need everything squared away into neat little boxes and labelled accordingly. It is what it is. Yeah, we see each other sometimes, and yeah sometimes it’s just about getting laid. Not all of us get to have a sweeping romance like you and Jake. Sometimes a girl just needs to scratch an itch.” She shrugged. “Sometimes we just talk about work, and have a drink. I don’t know why you find it so surprising – you were friends with him once too.”

Abby was surprised by how much the past tense in that sentence hurt. It was true that it had been a long time since she and Marcus had been anything you call friendly, but the fact that they were now becoming almost notorious as bitter adversaries wasn’t a change she relished. Even Jake, who had been pretty close to Marcus at one time, rarely spent time with him any more.

The truth was, she hardly knew Marcus Kane these days. And it hurt too, to think that maybe that meant she didn’t know Callie as well as she had thought either.

 

* * *

 

 

** One Year Ago **

 

Abby let Callie in when she knocked on the door, because she honestly couldn’t think of what else to do.

The room was a mess. Jake’s stuff was everywhere and Abby couldn’t bring herself to clear it, couldn’t even bring herself to touch it. Clarke took after her dad in terms of messiness, and what few possessions she had were still untouched as well. There was even a half finished painting on the floor. It was a horrible kind of irony that when she looked around her home Abby couldn’t see herself in it at all, even though she was now the only one who lived here.

It was too big, for one person. She wondered if Thelonius would move her to smaller quarters. She wondered if he’d dare.

Callie looked around the room as she entered, but didn’t comment on the state of it. Once the door had closed behind her, Abby let her simply stand there awkwardly in the middle of the clutter, not giving her the consideration of a greeting. She had no time for politeness, now, no space in her heart for it. She simply stared at her friend, waiting for her to speak.

“How are you doing?” asked Callie softly, taking a step towards her.

It was a stupid question and Abby didn’t dignify it with an answer “What do you want?” she said instead, the words coming out harsh even to her own ears.

“I wanted to see...” said Callie hesitantly. “I wanted to know if there was anything I could do for you.”

“There isn’t,” said Abby.

Callie sighed. “Abby, you don’t have to do this alone. Please don’t shut me out.” She moved closer, her voice gentle. “Whatever else I am, whatever else I have to be, I’m your friend first. You’re the most important thing to me in the world. And I know you don’t believe this, but Marcus is—”

I don’t want to hear,” Abby spat, “about _Kane_.”

Callie visibly flinched, but held her ground. “Abby, you know he didn’t want this to happen any more than you did. Jake was his friend...”

It was the past tense that did it, that horrible little word ‘was’ that Abby knew she would have to get used to hearing for the rest of her life. _Jake Griffin was a good man. He was a great engineer. His wife was devoted to him. His daughter was just seventeen when he died. He was executed for treason. He was smiling at the end. Was was was._

She was suddenly furious, advancing on Callie and throwing off the tentative hand her friend had placed on her shoulder. “How can you defend him?” she snapped. “How can you even _speak_ to him after what he did? He arrested my husband, my _daughter_. How _could_ you?” She was being unfair, she knew, blaming Callie for being with Kane even before all this had happened, a kind of retroactive betrayal. But she was far past reason now, grief crashing over her in a great dark wave, and the one person she had left to comfort her was siding with...with _him._

“He was doing his job,” said Callie, her voice unusually hard. “He was doing what he thought was right.” She paused briefly, clearly deciding whether or not to speak the next words.

“Just like _you_ were,” she said.

Abby stared at her for a long moment, the anger draining away into blank horror. “He...told you?” she whispered.

“Yes,” said Callie. “He did, and you didn’t. So who are you really angry at, Abby?”

It was a sign of the many years of their friendship that when Abby crumpled to the ground Callie was already there, pulling her into her arms, holding her tightly as Abby sobbed against her shoulder. They clung together, survivors from a shipwreck, alone in the silent, horrible emptiness of what had once been Abby’s home. Callie’s voice was thick with tears too when she spoke again.

“It wasn’t your fault, Abby,” she whispered into her hair. “It _wasn’t.”_

They both knew that it wasn’t the truth. But it mattered to Abby, that she said it.

 

* * *

 

 

** Six Months Ago **

 

Marcus caught up with her less than five minutes after the Council meeting had adjourned, which was impressive given the speed at which she’d been going. Then again, his legs were a lot longer than hers.

“Abby. Wait.”

She instinctively bridled at the tone of command in his voice, but stopped anyway, turning to face him with as bland an expression as she could muster.

“Did you have a question, Kane?” she said. “You should have asked at the meeting, if so. It’s late and I need to get up early tomorrow. Lots to do.”

“No, I don’t have a question,” he said tightly, and then hesitated. “Actually, yes I do. What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I can’t help you if you weren’t paying attention,” said Abby. “You’ll have to read the minutes of the meeting back.”

Marcus stepped closer, radiating impatience. “This isn’t funny, Abby. This plan of yours isn’t going to work, and you know it. It’s a pointless delay at best, a science experiment with human lives that will cost more than it gains. You strong-armed Jaha into—”

“You over estimate my influence on the Chancellor,” said Abby. “I put a proposal to the Council and it was approved. I really don’t think there’s anything more to say.”

He glared at her, eyes dark. “Earth is _not_ survivable. It won’t be for another hundred years or more. It’s a fool’s errand, Abby.”

“You’ve made your opinion on this abundantly clear already, thank you,” snapped Abby, her temper fraying. “And you shouldn’t be talking about it out here.”

In fact, at this time of day the corridors were almost empty, but her words still had an effect – Marcus grabbed her arm none too gently and dragged her into an alcove, where at least they wouldn’t be overheard so easily by passers by

“You are _distracting_ people,” he said, and now his voice was low and full of genuine anger,” from the real issue. You’re giving them false hope that there’s some way out of this other than—”

“Other than _murder?”_ said Abby, her own voice rising. “Well I’m sorry for trying to find another way, Kane, I know how much you enjoy a good execution.”

“You think I _enjoy_ this?” He was standing very close now, breathing hard, and Abby felt a vindictive satisfaction at having cracked his composure for once.

“I think you don’t give a _damn_ what happens as long as you can be proven right,” she said fiercely. “As long as your ego is satisfied. You’re so _convinced_ you know everything that you can’t stand the suggestion that there might be another solution that you didn’t think of!”

“ _My_ ego?” snarled Marcus. “You’re the one so convinced you’ve got the moral high ground that you think anyone who disagrees with you is—”

“You want to kill hundreds of our own people!” said Abby. “It’s not hard to have the moral high ground when you’re talking about human lives as if they’re supplies you can just toss out an airlock at a whim!”

“ _I’m_ not the one who wants to send _children_ to a radiation soaked planet!”

Abby opened her mouth to retort, but another voice interrupted them sharply.

“Hey!”

They both turned to see Callie striding towards them. Marcus released Abby’s arm as if it had suddenly burned him – she hadn’t even realised until that moment he was still holding it.

“What the hell has gotten into you two?” said Callie, looking more angry than Abby had ever seen her. “Two Councillors yelling at each other in the corridor? What if I had been someone else and overheard something?” She glared at both of them. “Save it for the Council Chambers,” she said, “For god’s sake, people are suspicious enough as it is.”

There was little either of them could say to that, and after a beat of silence Marcus nodded tersely and strode away down the corridor, without looking back. Callie stayed behind, a fact for which Abby was pathetically grateful. In spite of everything, she still had the support of her best friend, even when she was royally pissed off. That thought alone helped to settle Abby’s screaming nerves a little as they started along the corridor together.

“Sorry,” said Abby finally. She wouldn’t apologise to Marcus, but Callie was a different matter, and she was starting to feel a little ashamed in spite of herself. “You’re right, that was pretty stupid.”

“No kidding,” said Callie, but there was no bite to her voice. “I feel like a teacher breaking up fights in the schoolyard with you two sometimes.”

Abby smiled in spite of herself, at the absurd image. “I shouldn’t have lost my temper in public,” she said.

Callie glanced sideways at her. “Are you okay?”

“Fine. It’s just been a long day. And _Kane_ —” She stopped herself in time. “Sorry. I know you don’t want to hear it.”

“No it’s okay.” Callie said. “You want to rant, go ahead. When we get into a less public location, I mean.”

Abby eyed her suspiciously. “You don’t mind? Are the two of you...?”

“Same as ever,” said Callie. “But you’re my friend first, Abs. Besides...” To Abby’s surprise, her lips twitched suddenly in repressed smile. “I’m used to it.”

Light dawned. “ _He_ rants about _me_ to you?” said Abby, outraged.

Callie actually laughed. “No comment,” she said. “But you really get under his skin, I can tell you that.”

“The feeling is mutual,” muttered Abby. They had arrived at the door to Callie’s room, and to her surprise Callie turned and hugged her briefly.

“I’m glad,” she said. “I know you want to strangle Marcus, and I’m not really glad about _that_ , but...you get your spark back, when you’re pissed at him.” She smiled, although there was something a little sad in her eyes. “You seem more like...yourself.”

“Oh.” Abby didn’t know what else to say. It was hard to know how to respond to her best friend telling her that she was most like herself when she was in a towering rage.

“If you two ever agreed on anything, you’d be unstoppable,” said Callie, still smiling. “Want to come in? Get a load off your chest?”

“No, I’d...I’d better get back,” said Abby, a shade awkwardly. “I’ve got an early start tomorrow.”

Callie nodded, and after a brief exchange of goodnights, disappeared inside. Abby walked slowly back through the Ark to her own place, lost in thought.

The argument with Marcus had been expected, but Callie’s reaction had really thrown her. It was true that she hadn’t exactly been herself lately, not since Jake...but then that was natural, surely? Abby thought she had been hiding it better at least, but the sympathy in Callie’s eyes said otherwise. But what more could she do?  She’d lost _everything_ , and she had been dealing with it as well as she could, as least in public. She kept herself busy. She didn’t allow herself to sink into despair. Every day she worked until her head swam to try and get things ready for the kids to be sent to the ground. And every night she went back to an empty room and an empty bed, and in spite of her fatigue it took her hours to get to sleep, lying there staring at the ceiling, her mind filled with ghosts of the past and dread of the future.

And every spare moment she had, she argued and threatened and cajoled, doing everything she could to get the Council to listen to her, because if she stopped...if she stopped for just a moment...

When Abby got back to her quarters, she went through the motions of getting ready for bed in something of a daze. It was how she did a lot of things these days – on automatic, her mind elsewhere. The truth was...she couldn’t deny what Callie had said, even to herself. The only time she felt anything through the fog of grief and exhaustion was when she was arguing with Marcus. With Kane. Whoever he was to her now.

She wanted him on her side. To admit that she was right and he was wrong. Not just so that her plan would have a chance, but because it _mattered_ to her, in some way she could hardly define, that Marcus Kane actually understood what it was she was trying to do.

Perhaps it was because last time, she had listened to him. She had agreed with him on keeping the air situation a secret, and it had cost her everything she cared about. This time, he would have to listen to _her,_ or they would _all_ be paying the price.

Smug, self satisfied bastard. He spoke about sacrifice and he didn’t have a clue, not a _clue,_ what the word really meant. What Callie could admire in him she had no idea.

Abby lay awake long into the night, restless and annoyed, hating Marcus Kane more than she had ever hated anyone in her life.

 

* * *

 

 

** Four Months Ago **

 

Abby managed to put several corridors between herself and the airlock before her legs gave way.

She stopped and sank to the floor suddenly, because the alternative was to collapse. Her vision swam, and Callie’s voice beside her seemed to come from very far away.

“Abby...hey, it’s okay...you’re okay. Stay with me.”

Abby’s heart was hammering in her chest, and her lungs felt tight, but she just about managed to speak. “I’m alright...” she gasped, between sharp, painful breaths. “It’s just...delayed...shock...”

“You can’t do this here honey,” said Callie, sounding wretched. “Come on, stand up and lean on me, just a little further.”

In the end they made it to a janitorial closet, a tiny room filled with buckets and junk that had no light when they closed the door behind them. But it had just about enough space for them to both sink onto a couple of crates while Abby lowered her head into her hands and tried to breathe normally. The darkness helped, actually, allowing her to focus on taking deep, slow breaths, letting the truth sink in.

_I’m okay. I’m alive. Jaha pardoned me and I’m alive. I’ll see Clarke again. I’m alive. I’m not going to be floated. I’m alive. I’m alive. I’m alive._

As her breathing evened out, she became aware of a soft sound on the edge of hearing, and realised with a jolt that Callie was crying. When she raised her head, even in the dim light she could see streaks of tears down her friend’s face.

“Hey...” Instinctively, Abby reached and touched Callie’s shoulder gently in concern. “Are _you_ going to be alright?”

Callie let out a stifled sob. “I...I didn’t think he would really do it,” she choked.

As Abby had been thinking of Jaha’s unexpected arrival, it took her a moment to realise what Callie meant.  And then a vision of Kane’s grim, resolute face swam into her mind, the way he had glanced at Callie before giving the order, and she understood. Of course Callie would have begged him not to do it. And of course he had refused. Those two facts were as obvious as each other to Abby, but looking into Callie’s face, she realised that the second one had come as a genuine shock to her friend. She had in some fundamental way misunderstood Marcus Kane, or at least her relationship with him. For all that her best friend’s life had just been spared, Callie had still lost something today.

Abby leaned across awkwardly in the dark to embrace her. “I’m sorry,” she said softly, not even sure herself what she was apologising for.

Callie’s shoulders trembled with the effort of holding back another sob. “I didn’t think he would do it,” she repeated, her voice slightly muffled by Abby’s shoulder. “Not to _you.”_

Abby couldn’t help but let out a weak chuckle at that, and released Callie to look at her with a wry smile.

“Because I’m your friend?” she said, as gently as she could. “I think we both know he’s not as sentimental as that. I wouldn’t have expected it to make a difference.”

Callie didn’t answer, just took a deep shuddering breath, visibly pulling herself together. In the semi-darkness Abby found her expression difficult to read exactly, but the pain in her eyes was unmistakable.

“I didn’t think he’d do that to you,” Callie said again, in a voice little more than a whisper, and Abby had no idea what to say.

 

* * *

 

 

** Today **

 

Marcus comes to sit next to Abby at the fire that evening, limping but already looking noticeably better than he did in the morning. He has a drink in his hand, but she’s fairly sure that it’s nothing more than an excuse to spend some time here with her, just as her own drink is. There’s something comforting in sitting in the centre of the camp, under the open sky but warmed by the flames, surrounded by the voices of people relaxing after a long day. They often sit here together, she and Marcus, sometimes talking business, sometimes just quietly enjoying a moment of peace. Tonight Abby wishes for a moment that he would sit a little closer, put his arm around her. It’s a foolish thought, but there it is.

Callie was right, she thinks. No matter what they go through, she always feels most like _herself_ when she’s with Marcus. They’ve never had to hide from each other.

He breaks the silence first.

“She would have hated the ground,” he says, and neither of them need to say the name aloud to know who he’s talking about. “Bugs and dirt, she used to say. That’s what she said the ground would be like. Bugs, dirt and radiation.”

“She said the same thing to me,” said Abby. “I never knew if she meant it or if it was just her way of...”

_Coping_ , she thinks, but can’t bring herself to say it. It makes Callie sound weak, and that’s not fair. They all had their ways of coping with life on the Ark, living with the daily reality of an existence that amounted to little more than grim survival for the good of others in some nebulous future they would never get to see themselves. If Callie had to tell herself that the Earth wasn’t worth it, that she was happier in space...who could say that she didn’t really believe it?

They would never know, now. Callie had never gotten a chance to find out.

“I miss her,” says Abby quietly, because she can’t think of anything else to say in this moment. Marcus glances at her, his eyes soft, but he doesn’t reply, just nods. It’s a gesture that could mean a lot of things, from ‘ _yes I know you do’_ to _‘I miss her too’_. Abby can’t tell. In some ways, Marcus Kane remains as impenetrable to her as ever.

A contradiction. Abby knows Marcus better than anyone, and yet not at all. He makes her feel safe, whole, _home_...and yet just a few months ago he would have stood by and seen her executed without a trace of remorse.

Abby feels, obscurely, that Callie would have been able to make sense of that somehow.

She glances at Marcus, who is staring into the fire, his face unreadable. They’ve both endured such terrible loss that there has hardly been time to grieve for Callie, just another victim in a sea of hundreds. Half the people Abby grew up with, half the people she has ever known in her life are dead now. That’s the worst part, really, the fact that in the face of overwhelming losses, one more easily fades into the background. They’re all so focused on survival, on protecting the living, that there’s little time to mourn those that are gone. At least Callie has two people who still remember her, from time to time. That’s more than you can say for a lot of the dead.

Abby feels like she owes Callie more, but there’s a safety in the silence that she and Marcus now share, and once again she finds the words die on her lips unsaid.

_Did you love her?_

She wants so badly to ask it, to ask the question that’s been hovering on the edge of her mind all day, the question that she could never bring herself to ask Callie no matter how many chances she had.

_Did you love each other?_

Abby thinks she already knows the answer, but in a way she wants to be _wrong._ She wants to believe for Callie’s sake that the Marcus Kane her friend knew on the Ark is the same man that knows now; warm and compassionate and utterly selfless, a man whose relentless driving energy stems from a desire to protect the people he cares about at any cost. A man with a stubborn belief in fairness and peace, even in the face of overwhelming resistance. She wants to believe that Callie was able to see who Marcus _really_ was before she ever could, that Callie understood the good man he was capable of being.

She wants to believe that Callie was _loved_ , by someone other than herself.

Marcus doesn’t speak again, and Abby follows his lead, the two of them drinking in silence together as the light fades and the stars come out, a world away from the Ark in more ways than one. It occurs to Abby that perhaps this is the best way to honour the memory of Callie after all – just the two of them sitting together in peaceful silence, united in this moment by her loss. She may not have lived to see them reconcile, but Abby knows her friend would have been happy at way the ground has brought them together, the two people she cared about the most now taking care of each other.

So when Marcus reaches over tentatively and takes her hand, she laces her fingers with his and moves closer to lean her head against his shoulder, imagining Callie’s smile.

***


End file.
